


Here Without You

by Whispering_Imp



Series: Stars Don't Lie (but Superstars Do... Sometimes) [4]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Gangbang Kink, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, light humiliation, most everything is imagined, voyeurism kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 10:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9176371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispering_Imp/pseuds/Whispering_Imp
Summary: No matter how sweet your relationships are, no matter how successful, no matter how inseparable you are, sooner or later you're going to have to be off somewhere alone and without their touch. When you do, remember you can always take matters into your own hands.





	1. Sebastian

Sebastian was alone in his hotel room, trying to find a comfortable position on the well-made bed. He was naked except for his jeans. They had once again proven to be too tight for comfort. _Why do you never learn the lesson and not be tempted to look good instead of comfortable, Sebastian?_ \--he thought with mild annoyance _\--Because, you just loved it when everyone can’t look away from you. That’s why. You stupid Sea Bass._ Well, he has no one to blame but himself.

Earlier, as he was undressing for the night, his phone rang, the special ringtone rudely calling for immediate attention. He smiled despite getting himself tangled in shirt sleeves in his clumsy haste to get the shirt off. One of his loved ones was calling. Seb rushed to get the phone, re-buttoning the jeans he was so desperate to remove a moment before. As soon as he picked up the phone, all discomfort from his self-sacrificing fashion choices were forgotten. Sarah's voice, that was all that mattered. Her little happy giggles when she said “Hi.” made him tingle all over. A phone call like this would make Seb feel like he’s falling in love as a teenager all over again. He’d be so surprised by the idea that this sweet darling girl is his-- _His_ \--that he’d stammer. And then he’d feel embarrassed that he’s behaving less than manly (as Chris would sometimes lovingly tease him) and stammer more. But soon, Sarah would’ve made him laugh and he’d relax and start talking about anything and everything like he’d never stop. To be honest, it is always hard to stop.

Just like all their conversations, this one lasted too long and felt too short. Finally, after they exchanged details of their day, little quirky jokes, seductive teases, and a thousand "miss you" and "love you"s, Seb reluctantly forced himself to chase Sarah off to bed. That was just as well, she needed her beauty sleep and Seb would not be the reason she is tired the next day, except… Well… except now, he was left with a little problem to deal with.

He was already feeling the strain between his legs when Sarah mentioned how she missed kneeling in front of him and awaiting his commands. Picturing her there, beautiful and submissive, and imagining what it'd feel like to guide her such that her nose would press into his crotch was a mistake. The thought of feeling of that pressure he'd feel even through his pants got him so hard he wanted to cry with frustration. It got worse when she sent a photo of her backside in the new lingerie. It looked like Chris got her a present in a fancy little gift box again. Seb sighed. That guy really has a great fashion sense. The lace was dark blue, and it hugged Sarah’s body snugly. The color was in striking contrast with her perfect skin, bringing out all the best of her figure. Seb was careful to not sound too desperate on the phone, but he strongly suspected that she knew what she was doing to him. Now that he’s alone again, Seb let out a strangled sigh and threw himself backwards onto the bed. He struggled to open his fly and set himself free, not bothering to push the offensive clothing further down than necessary. Desperation had made him an impatient man. Seb put pressure on himself with the base of his hand and sighed once more. This time with less frustration.

 _Nudity is so liberating._ he thought sarcastically, recalling an old interview that he just couldn't get out of his head.

Seb suppressed the urge to squeeze or stroke. He relished in the satisfaction of knowing he have the self-control to do so. A silent breath fell from his parted lips. Out of habit (that came from a game he's played with Tom too many times, but that's another story), Sebastian bit down on his lips to suppress a moan. He remained motionless for a few seconds more, and then the strain became too much to endure, and he started moving. His index finger trembled as he traced the veins on his length from bottom to the tip. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine grinding against his lover’s body, always teasing, never entering. But it was he who was painfully teased right now. The only thing that was missing from all this was the sound of Sarah’s moans of pleasure and Chris’ pitiful pleading. With an effort, he forced his finger away and quickly squeezed the base of his length to keep from putting this session to an end too soon. His well-toned chest was heaving, trying desperately to pump away the hot air and fill his burning body with the cool air from the room.

“Oh God, please--”

Tom would have kissed him on the nipple and whispered for him to wait. The warm and moist breath would have been like torture to his sensitive skin. His hand moved over his body, protecting himself against the imaginary assault. Without meaning to, the hand that was trying to keep him from coming started pumping. He rolled onto his side, hips moving to the rhythm set by his strokes. His leg muscles were tight with strain.

Sebastian hugged himself with his free hand. He thought about Chris and his puppy-like eagerness, so bold and unabashed in making his needs known. His squeezed harder and gasped. He imagined his lover, head between his legs, lips closing on his length, trying to draw out as much pleasured moans from him as possible. He thrashed into the imagined warmth, gasping and silently pleading for more. His other hand tried desperately to hold on to the sheets, but the silky cloth was tucked in too tightly to wrinkle.

When he failed to find handhold on the bed sheets, he hugged himself instead. He wished Tom was there to hold him down and pull his arms back so he could do nothing but sob. Maybe he'd had his hands tied to the headboard with an expensive tie. Tom would have promised to take good care of him. He would nibble his ear and ask him what he needed. Tom would kiss the back of his neck, the gentle gesture a glaring contrast to the way his hips whipped into Seb at a punishing pace." Like a sewing machine" as the Romanian saying goes. His lovers all laughed the first time they heard the expression. Seb couldn't think of anything more accurate and and less funny as he imagined struggling under Tom.

"T-Tom, too much. I can't. Please, I need to touch you--"

Except Tom wasn't there to keep Seb in position tonight, so Seb got to do whatever his heart desired. Shakingly, he raised his hand and put two fingers between his lips. He sucked on them, wetting them as much as he could. He had the intent to finger himself, but he still felt a disappointing loss when he removed his fingers and reached behind to finger himself. First easing one finger in, and then pushing the second one, with much more burn this time, between the tight muscles. He didn’t have lube on hand, but he enjoyed the slight pain. Sebastian knew the feeling would ease out in a bit, and then he would want to add another finger, but he didn’t want to risk hurting himself so he had to be satisfied like this. He rocked, back and forth, back and forth… As if he had his sub in front of him and his dom pounding on him from behind. His mouth was open, but no sound came out except for the heavy draw of breath to his lungs. In his mind he was pleading to all his lovers: More, more, more…

His thrusts were becoming hard and erratic. Sebastian has always been rough in bed. But he loves and respects his lovers enough to be careful with them. Tonight however, there was no need to be careful about hurting anyone. He closed his eyes and the image of Tom melted, to be replaced by the sight of Sarah moving in sync with him, her delicate hands on his shoulder, and her hair flowing wild like rays of sunshine. _Mine._ Seb thought with happiness. _Mine. Mine. Mine. All mine._

When Sebastian finally came, he was silent. His body maintained an erratic rhythm and, as a habit of his, he tried drawing it out for as long as possible without really thinking about it. Breathing was hard, the air felt much too heavy when he drew them in labored gasps. All his muscles tensed even as he shuddered through his orgasm. The force of his clenched thighs would be bruising had his lover been between them. But there was no one there. Only the bedsheets than he clawed out of place and grasped desperately to himself as if his life depended on it. This was just as well, tomorrow, there wouldn’t be the usual sheepish apologies he tends to feel the need to say about the purplish bruising blossoming on the back of Sarah’s neck, the scratch marks all over Chris’s back, or the bite marks that peaked out of Tom’s collar that was sure to be a headache to explain to his makeup team. Every time they would assure him that they love it. But that never makes it okay for Seb. He just have to kiss the marks again and mutter a hundred apologies while he does. But tonight, his orgasm will leave no consequences, there would only be the drenched mess of the bed sheets from cum and sweat.

 


	2. Chris

The house was empty except for the lone man in the bedroom. Chris lay awake, missing everybody. Tom was filming in some quiet town somewhere. He won't be home for days. Sarah and Seb were oceans away enjoying a much needed holiday. The night stretched on. Chris sighed. He missed all his lovers, but most of all, he missed Seb. He missed being bossed around. He missed the way Seb is always so eager to bend ve him over nothing is allowed to stand in the way.

He missed warm bodies. The bed he was on felt too cold. Chris shifted, turning over so he could press the his face into the little patch of warmth his body had made. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine pressing into his lover's sturdy chest and being held there.... Chris started guiltily at the thought. Sebastian (bless his sadistic soul) had all but ordered him to refrain from sexual pleasures just recently. In fact, he had to make it worse by reminding his poor, lonely lover every day over the phone.

"I hope you're not missing me too much, Chris. We'll be home soon."

"You know I do. You're just asking so I can say it directly to your greedy ear."

"I love you too."

"You can at least talk me through one night."

"Phone sex? You're so kinky, Evans."

"You are the least qualified person to judge me for being desperate, Seb."

Nothing but chuckles came from the other end.

Chris rolled his eyes, feeling slightly smug that he's on the phone and can get away with it. "You're so cruel, man."

"You love it, baby. Listen, I got to go. Don't touch yourself now. That's for me only."

"Bastard."

Sebastian's laughter still rang in his ear moments after they hung up. Memories of the phone call only made it worse. Chris wondered if rolling around in bed pretending your lover was there counts as touching yourself. He knew Seb would say yes, it counts. But that's okay. Chris can't do anything about that anyways. Seb can, and is more than happy to, make anything into an excuse to beat Chris' arse raw. And Chris would only cry for more. Nothing, except the actual sex, can beat their kinky little games. Anyway, he decided, Seb doesn't have to know. Chris Evans is old enough to know how to keep his damn mouth shut if he wants to.

He rolled over onto his back once more. It was a great relief, deciding on defiance instead of more frustration and chastity. He put a hand over himself through the boxers he was wearing. Since he was practically rutting against the bedsheets, he might as well go all the way. He thought about Seb in his most annoying and bossy form. His lover was so rarely that much of a jerk.... Chris wished he was though...

And the thing is, Chris would let him do it. He'd let Seb hold him down. He'd let Seb choke him painfully. He'd cry and beg for more. And on his imaginations, his lover wouldn't heed the tears.

"Not so proud now, are you, Evans? I should really pimp you out, now that you've decided my orders are not worth listening to anymore, you might as well do something useful. Who do you think your first customer should be?"

Chris sobbed. Not out of fear, but out of frustration. He needed Seb to move. Either move his hand or just take him. Take him lovingly or hard and brutally, it didn't matter. "S-Seb..." Chris tried to roll over so he would be on top. Seb pushes him back down by the shoulders.

"Maybe I should watch. You know, I have a friend who's a fan of these things. He might even beat a bit of sense into you."

"No..." Chris muttered half-heartedly. "Please Seb..."

"Admit it. What you really want is for me to be your papi chulo, isn't it? That's why you work out so hard isn't it? So people could see."

"Only for you…." Chris thrusted into his fist. His body had refused to torture itself to keep the fantasy up anymore. Had he kept it up for any longer, he feel like he would have died. "Oh God, Seb…"

He wished he could drop to his knees and worshipped his lover with his lips, but Seb wasn't there. It just wasn't the same by imagination. There was no one to take him roughly, no one to keep him hanging at the edge…

He turned his mind to his other lovers instead. He thought about Sarah. Gentle, lovely, Sarah. She won't make him cry. Instead she'll soothe his frustration and wipe away his tears. Holding Sarah is such a comfort to him. He gets to focus on her needs instead of getting wrapped up in his own ego. Keeping her warm, touching her just enough, kissing her everywhere she needs kissing… That is his job, his passion. When he is with her, he is more sure of himself. He is in charge, as she needs him to be. He ran his palm down his own body, imagining a softer hand touching him. He sighed. "Good girl."

"Indeed, but have you been a good boy, Chris?" Tom's voice raised out of his thoughts. Chris whimpered. Tom always knows best. Chris pictured two piercings eyes looking down at him disapprovingly. He decided to plead for himself.

"I'm always good. I behave. I will always behave for you. You should be have more trust in me by now." Chris complained.

"Liar."

Chris grinned. Tom can probably write an essay about all the time he misbehaved, the psychological analysis of his behavior, and the effect it has on his relationships. The materials at his disposal is endless. Chris knew the lie won't work, but he did it anyways. "Well, it didn't hurt to try."

Tom’s fingers teased Chris’s jaw line. "You never learn, do you? One, you talk too much. Two, I'm going to do something about it. Three, it's going to hurt. A lot."

If Tom was there, he would have turned Chris around and landed rapid slaps on his behind. Chris would have screamed and cried for more until he is hoarse. But there were no Tom to deal the punishments, and Chris was left to hump the bed sheets and cry in frustration. He took a pillow between his legs and pressed it close, trying to get more friction even though it was clear he was already getting too sensitive. His skin will hate him tomorrow.

With one more frustrated jerk, Chris quickly tipped himself over the edge, all the while crying silently. He missed his lovers so much; he couldn't stand thinking about them for much longer. All he wanted was to sleep. Maybe in his dreams the sex would be more satisfying. He could figure out the guilt later.

In fact, it would be easy to resolve. All it took was one phone call the next morning. But he promised himself that wouldn't know any of it. As he struggled out of bed to clean himself up, he thought about all the things to say when the inevitable question of "Did you miss us?" comes up. He needs a cover story and he needs to stick to it. What will he say? He was watching the NFL recap. That's not too far from the truth. He rolled around in agony thinking about his lovers. That's also true…

Chris shook his head. He was doing it again--replaying scenario after scenario, making his mind buzz with noises. He took a deep breath. The logical voice in his head told him he desperately need to meditate, but his body felt like putty and all he wants to do was go to bed.

As it turns out, sleep didn’t want to come easy that night. He pulled the blanket closer around him, tossing and turning. He tried counting his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In--Oh God, what should he do? Call Seb tomorrow, and--confess? No. Just say he missed everybody. Keep it simple. Yeah. That'll do. He reached for his phone. God, he missed Seb so much. He needed to ask what to do. He couldn't wait until morning. He pressed the quick dial.

"Sebastian... I... Look man, I have a confession to make."


End file.
